


Keep On Rollin'

by Slybrarian



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Community: sg_flyboys, Episode Tag, Episode: s05e20 Enemy at the Gate, Established Relationship, M/M, Road Trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-10
Updated: 2010-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-06 02:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slybrarian/pseuds/Slybrarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scenes from an off-kilter road trip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep On Rollin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaffsie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gaffsie).



> Many thanks to Dossier for betaing.  
> Prompt: Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to make John Sheppard and Cameron Mitchell happy in a way that meshes with canon. I would love you forever if it took Enemy at the Gate into account.

**USAF _Odyssey_**

When the _Odyssey_ returned from it's top-secret mission to contact the Furlings (enlightened species Cam's _ass_ \- more like hyperintelligent psychopathic koalas), the crew was rather surprised to find that they had missed quite a bit while they were away. The entire 304 fleet had gotten their asses kicked by a super-charged hive ship, and two ships were still stuck in intergalactic space. The control chair for the Antarctic weapon had been destroyed, because apparently no one had ever bothered to put any air defenses around Area 51, scramble extra fighter squadrons, or even do the obvious thing and fire the damned drones at the attacking darts. Finally, there was now a cloaked city blocking traffic in and out of San Francisco Bay, and gigantic chunks of hive ship were floating in orbit and could potentially come plummeting down on the unsuspecting masses below. It was a complete mess.

Fortunately, it wasn't Cam's mess. Once the _Odyssey_ finished cleaning up the orbital debris and he finished his preliminary debriefing - summary: "Daniel did not start another intergalactic war, even if he did literally get bit in the ass" - he was looking forward to a few days off. No Vala trying to steal parts of his ship, no whining from bed-ridden archaeologists, no accidents involving airmen, poorly worded requests to the Asgard core, and piles of alien contraceptive devices, and in fact nothing he needed to be responsible for at all. It would be great.

Then Sam came into his office with look on her face that told him she was up something.

"Hey, Sam," he said. "Have a seat."

"Cam," Sam replied, with an entirely too innocent smile. "Good to see you again."

"You saw me yesterday," he pointed out. "Do I even want to know why you're on my ship?"

"I need a favor. You know that Atlantis is stuck here until we can complete the repairs at Area 51 and get the drones there up and running, right?" When Cam nodded, she went on. "A couple of people are getting a little antsy with all the waiting. I think it would be good for them to get away and relax for a while."

"A couple of people?" Cam said. "Like who?"

"Mostly Colonel Sheppard."

"Yeah, that what was what I'd guessed," Cam said. Sheppard wasn't the sort of guy who liked sitting around with nothing to do. "So point him at land and give him a shove. I'm sure he can find something to do for a week."

"That's the plan," Sam said. "He's driving me and Woolsey out of our minds. I just think he could use some company. He hasn't been himself lately."

"And you... want me to keep him company," Cam said slowly. "He does have friends, you know."

"Yeah, but honestly, I think it might do him some good to spend some time away from them."

"I still don't get why you're asking me. You're the one who served with him."

Sam shook her head. "I'm going to be busy with the drones. Besides, I'm not as close to him as you are."

Cam frowned. "I thought you two got to be pretty good friends."

"We are, but not the same way you are."

Cam was getting increasingly confused. "Sheppard and I get along well, but it's not like we're best buddies or anything."

"Uh huh," Sam said with an amused smile. "You lived together for six weeks."

"He needed a place to stay and I had an extra bed," Cam replied.

Sam chuckled. "Right. John Sheppard decided to voluntarily live with someone else just because it was convenient. Pull the other one."

"I'm serious. We knew each other from Afghanistan, but we were in completely different units. The only reason we met at all was because his team picked Fergie up went he went down. We occasionally hung out from time to time until I got transferred to the Skinners. It was just a casual friendship, nothing more."

It was a casual something, at any rate.

Sam studied him closely for a minute, while Cam fidgeted uncomfortably. Finally she rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, sure, you're just passing friends. That's more than most people can say. All I'm asking is that you try to get him to go out and enjoy himself. You could use a vacation yourself, too."

"Alright," Cam said. "I'll see what I can do. No promises, though."

Cam's problem was that, having agreed to do something, even something that was probably a bad idea for all sorts of reasons that Cam wasn't about to say to Sam, he was completely incapable of not doing the best job he could. The smart thing to do would be to shoot Sheppard a short email and shrug when the inevitable reply of 'no' came. Instead, he spent the rest of the day planning and making some calls.

* * *

  
**San Francisco**

"Sheppard!" Cam called when he barged into said man's office. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. "Come on, time to go."

Sheppard looked up from his computer. "What?"

"Time to go," Cam repeated. "Go on, get up, we're burning daylight."

Sheppard stared at him for a minute, then hollered, "Lorne! Get in here!"

Lorne emerged from the door across the hall. "Colonel? Oh, good afternoon, Colonel Mitchell."

"Major," Cam said.

"Lorne," Sheppard said, "is there something I'm supposed to be doing with SG-1?"

"Not as such, no, sir," Lorne said. "You're going on a mission with Colonel Mitchell."

"What kind of mission?"

"We're going on a road trip," Cam said with a grin.

"A road trip," Sheppard repeated flatly.

"Yeah. I figure we could drive across the country, see the sights, get a little R&amp;R in."

"Thanks, but no thanks," Sheppard said. "I've got work to do."

"It can wait. You need a vacation."

"I do not need a vacation."

"Yes, you do."

"Do not."

"Do to."

Sheppard threw up his hands. "How would you even know? I haven't seen you for almost a year."

"Your emails seemed tired." Cam tilted his head a little. "And honestly, you seem cranky. Doesn't he, Lorne?"

Lorne nodded. "He has been moody lately."

"I'm not moody," Sheppard muttered. "And as nice as a vacation sounds, I'm afraid I don't have any leave right now."

"O'Neill's already signed off on it," Cam said. He pulled out his smart phone and punched in a code. "You should stand up."

"I don't want to," Sheppard replied, like a stubborn five-year-old.

"Come on, just stand up."

"No."

"Fine. Don't blame me -" the light of a transport beam enveloped them and deposited them beside Cam's car in an empty parking lot "- when you fall on your ass."

Sheppard fell on his ass. A few moments later, another flash dropped several travel bags next to him. Cam offered him a hand up and kept a smile off his face as Sheppard brushed himself off. It didn't do him much good, though, because Sheppard was still doing his best to incinerate Cam with a glare.

"You know, kidnapping is a crime," Sheppard said.

"I prefer to think of it as encouraging you to get out a little," Cam said. "I suppose you could always call OSI or the cops if you disagree, but I'm pretty sure that explaining where I took you from and how I did it would get a little awkward." He grinned, picked up Sheppard's bag, and opened up the car's back door to drop it inside. "Come on. I've asked around and heard there's a great place not far from here to do some surfing. I figure we can do that today and hit the road first thing in the morning."

Sheppard eyed him skeptically. "Do you even know how to surf?"

Cam shrugged. "You can teach me. It can't be harder than flying a 302, can it?"

For a minute Cam thought that Sheppard was going to keep balking, but finally he sighed and started walking around to the passenger side door. "Fine, I'll take a vacation with you. But I'm telling you now, I'm not going to have any fun."

"We'll see."

They reached the beach in question a half hour later. Cam had already called ahead to make sure there would be surfboards to rent and soon they were out in the waves. Sheppard did his best to keep up a dour expression, but Cam caught him smiling to himself on occasion. He even laughed a few times, usually right after Cam planted his face in the water. Surfing, as it turned out, was a little harder than it looked.

* * *

  
**Las Vegas**

It wasn't Cam's idea to go to Vegas, but there were only so many ways to get from California to points east, it was at a convenient stopping distance, and Sheppard's gaze seemed to linger on that point on the map. Cam figured that it couldn't hurt anything. He doubted Sheppard was any more likely to have a gambling problem than he was and chances were that any other issues were long since forgotten. Still, when they found a hotel, he let Sheppard pay for the room.

"I always liked this city," Sheppard said as they walked down the strip. "All the lights and shows, the people, the action -"

"The mob," Cam continued. "The gamblers who lose everything. The dozens and dozens of people who get murdered in bizarre ways each year, if CSI is anything to go by."

Sheppard tried to scowl at him, but all he managed to do was flash a weird twisted grin. "Stop killing my buzz, Mitchell. Aren't you supposed to be making me happy?"

"Sorry, sorry," Cam said with an unrepentant smile. "You come here a lot?"

"A couple of times here and there, but not for a while," Sheppard said. "You?"

Cam shook his head and lied his ass off. "Nope, this is my first time here."

"Really? You never came down while you were stationed at Nellis?"

"We didn't really have a lot of free time."

"Not even a holiday weekend?"

"We figured Anubis probably wasn't taking a lot of vacations."

"We'll have to make up for lost opportunities." Sheppard tugged him toward one of the casinos. Cam groaned inwardly as he recognized the iconic pyramid shape of the Luxor. He wondered how obvious it would be if he deliberately tripped and twisted his ankle. Knowing his luck, he'd probably break his damned neck.

Inside, Sheppard went to get them some chips while Cam hit the bar to get them drinks. Cam downed an extra shot of whiskey to calm his nerves, which proved to be a big help when Sheppard returned with what seemed to be an absurd number of chips.

"When I said five hundred dollars," Cam said with a dubious tone, "I didn't mean I needed it in ones."

"Yeah, well, I figured five hundred wasn't any fun, so I got you five thousand," Sheppard said.

"What?" Cam shouted, drawing looks from people in the crowd around them. He lowered his voice and said, "I'm not going to blow five thousand dollars on gambling!"

"Consider it a gift from me," Sheppard said. "It's just money, and it's not like I need it that much."

"That's not the point," Cam hissed. He liked a little excitement as much as the next fighter pilot, but his daddy and momma hadn't raised him to blow that kind of cash on something as stupid as gambling, especially not at casinos designed to part people from their money.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Pull the stick out of your ass, Mitchell. Trust me, even if you blow it all, by the time the night's over I'll have made that much back, easy."

Cam bit his tongue. He wanted to tell Sheppard that being frugal didn't mean having a stick up his ass, or maybe smack him upside the head, but then he reminded himself that the entire point of this trip was the get Sheppard to relax and have some fun. Starting a fight on day two would be counterproductive. He supposed that if nothing else, he could use the money Sheppard had given him for food, gas, and lodging.

"Okay, fine," Cam said, "but when you blow all your money on some crazy, long-shot stunt, don't come looking to me for more."

The two of them drifted around the floor from game to game for a while, eventually gravitating towards the card tables. Slot machines were entirely too much like their day jobs, in the sense of "pull the lever and see what happens" seemed to describe their usual way of interacting with advanced technology, and for that matter meeting new aliens. It was also completely mindless. Roulette was a little better, since there was at least some degree of input and skill involved, but it was still mostly a game of chance. Poker, though, was something entirely different. Cam had practically grown up playing the game and, while maybe he wasn't up to playing in a professional tournament, he liked to think he was pretty good at it. It helped that people seemed to instinctively trust him. As for Sheppard, well, all he had to do was smile and about half the population would be wrapped around his finger.

Cam played relatively conservatively, not entirely comfortable with putting more than a few hundred dollars at risk at any given time, and so his pile of chips grew fairly slowly. Sheppard, on the other hand, was tossing money around left and right. He would casually bet a pile of hundred-dollar chips like they were pennies and just grin whether he won or lost. The crazy thing was that his horde kept growing and growing. They started to move to increasingly high-dollar tables and soon Cam found himself sitting by and gaping like a slack-jawed yokel while John played around with easily twenty or thirty thousand dollars.

Of course, that kind of good luck didn't last for long. It never did when Sheppard was around. Trouble arrived as they took a break to eat, in the form of a small, balding man trailing two gigantic bruisers in suits.

"Colonel Mitchell," the man said.

"Mr. Langostini," Cam replied nervously.

"I'm surprised to see you again," Langostini said. "Is Ms. mal Doran with you tonight?"

"No, it's just the two of us."

"Good, good." Langostini turned his attention to Sheppard. "And you're Captain John Sheppard, correct?"

"It's lieutenant colonel now," Sheppard said with a decidedly shifty look.

"Is it? Well, congratulations. It's very nice to meet you, Colonel. Your reputation precedes you."

"It does?"

"Oh, yes. Your last visit was a bit before my time, but I don't think anyone in this city could forget a man like you." Langostini smiled, looking rather like a shark might. "A word of advice, gentlemen. There are a number of excellent shows around the city tonight. It might be best if you cashed in your chips and checked them out."

"That sounds like a a great idea," Cam said. "Come on, Sheppard. Let's get our money and find something to eat."

"You brought Vala to Vegas?" Sheppard asked as they left the building a few minutes later.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Cam said. "What the hell did you do?"

Sheppard shrugged. "Oh, you know, just broke the bank at a couple of places. Or most of them. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I was kind of hoping they'd forgotten by now."

"Figures. You never did know when to stop yourself."

"I'm not the one who brought a space pirate to Vegas."

"Shut up."

* * *

  
**Grand Canyon National Park**

The Grand Canyon was an incredible sight, especially viewed from the see-through skywalk that jutted out over it. It was impossibly huge in every way, from the dizzying distance to the bottom to the way it stretched out of sight in both directions. The blended stripes of reds and oranges were beautiful and looked like a frozen sunset.

"You know, I thought it would be more impressive," Sheppard remarked.

"Yeah," Cam said. "I hate to say it, but the Gorge of Bastet was better." It was deeper, wider, longer, and had prettier colors. Not that Cam had favorite colors or cared about how pretty things were, mind, but if he _did_ he would think that the canyon could use some shades blue.

"Don't get me wrong, it's big," Sheppard continued, "but the hole a hiveship leaves behind is about as wide and deep, and when you look at it for a while you suddenly realize that the thing that left it behind can fly." He paused for a minute, then added, "My city can fly, you know."

Cam raised an eyebrow. "Your city?"

"I figure if I save it enough times, it belongs to me."

"What about the rest of your team?"

Sheppard shrugged. "I suppose they've helped a little, yeah. I don't have a problem sharing."

"I think Sam saved it a couple of times, too."

"Sure, she did," Sheppard said, starting to look a bit disgruntled.

"And the way Lorne tells it, he's saved your ass quite a lot, so doesn't -"

"Okay, fine, so it's more of a time-share city," Sheppard said with an exaggerated and dramatic roll of his eyes. "The point is, it flies."

"That is kind of cool."

"I know."

* * *

  
**Yellowstone National Park**

"Remind me again how this is different from our day jobs?" Sheppard said as he looked around the campsite.

"Because we're on vacation and no one's going to try to kill us, for one thing," Cam said. He frowned at the pile of poles and fabric that was supposed to be a tent. It couldn't possibly be harder to assemble than alien super weapons, could it? And yet, there he was.

"That is a nice change," Sheppard agreed. Morosely, he went on, "Still, camping out's not really my thing. There's too many bugs, it's usually too hot or too cold - sometimes in the same night, even - and laying on nothing but a sleeping bag doesn't do my back any favors."

"Are you trying to personify every Chair Force joke ever told," Cam asked, "or have you just been spending too much time with McKay?"

Sheppard gave him a hard look that he managed to maintain for a few seconds before one corner of his mouth twitched up.

"You are full of shit," Cam said with a smile. "Get the camp stove and some chairs set up. I'm starving."

"I still don't get why we're here," Sheppard said as he went to work.

"It's Yellowstone," Cam said. He got down on his knees and started putting to the tent together. "It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful and remarkable places on the planet."

"It's a supervolcano. Do you know what happened the last time I was near one?"

"You found an Ancient battleship and blew it up."

"Hey! Lorne blew it up!"

"He's your XO, it's close enough. Now, where was I? Right, it's the most beautiful place in the country, something everyone should try to visit at least once. Neither of us are exactly getting any younger."

As soon as Cam said it, Sheppard's face seemed to shut down entirely. It wasn't fake this time; even the usual amused light in his eyes disappeared. Cam knew he had hit a nerve, although exactly what it was he was unsure of. Somehow he doubted that Sheppard was having some stereotypical midlife crisis about getting old and people having babies and crap like that. Maybe it had to do with the Wraith or something. The way Sam told it, the man had some kind of weird relationship with one of them.

Cam blinked, then shook his head. Relationship was entirely the wrong word to use there. He hoped.

"You know, my Granma once said that getting in touch with nature was the best way to help a man get some perspective back in his life," Cam said in an effort to get the conversation back on track. Never mind that his Granma hated camping; it was the sort of thing that she would have said.

"Uh, Mitchell," Sheppard said. He was looking past Cam. He was showing emotion again, this time wide-eyed panic. "Don't look now, but nature is getting in touch with our packs."

Cam looked over his shoulder. Nature was indeed getting in touch with the packs, or more accurately the food inside. He had always been amazed at how quietly a bear could move when it felt like it.

"Well, shit," he said. He carefully stood up and backed away to a safe distance, or at least as far as Sheppard was standing. The bear looked up momentarily, then went back to rooting around inside one backpack.

"I don't suppose you have a gun?" Sheppard asked.

"Not exactly," Cam replied. As he watched, the bear dragged out the cooler than the steaks were in. A zat tumbled out along with it. "It'd probably just piss it off anyway, knowing our luck."

"Your luck," John corrected.

"Don't you go blaming this on me."

"Yellowstone was your idea."

"Shut up." Cam carefully pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in the code to activate some of its non-standard features, followed by another number.

A moment later someone answered. "_Odyssey_ communications."

"This is Colonel Mitchell. Put me through to the officer of the watch."

"Right away, sir."

A new voice came on a few seconds later. "This is Captain Duvalier. Go ahead, sir."

"Captain, I need you to scan the area around my transponder. You should see Colonel Sheppard and another lifesign."

"We see it, sir," she replied shortly. "It's a pretty big one. Is it some kind of alien?"

Cam peered at the bear, which was happily gobbling down their dinner. "No. Listen, I need you to lock on to it with the transporter and beam it somewhere else."

"Somewhere else, sir?"

"I don't know, just somewhere a mile or two away." Cam thought for a second, then amended that with, "But not next to any other humans."

"Ah... okay, sure, just a second, sir."

The bear disappeared. So did everything it was touching, including one of their food pack.

"Transport complete," Duvalier said cheerfully. "Anything else we can do for you, sir?"

"Call the galley and have them fix us something nice, then beam it down."

"Yes, sir. Romantic dinner for two, coming right up."

"It's not --" The connection died. Cam looked at Sheppard. "Do you ever feel like your subordinates are laughing at you?"

"Ever since I found out that Lorne was the one drawing the webcomic about my team." Sheppard shook his head and started to chuckle softly. "This is shaping up to be the worst vacation ever, Mitchell."

"Fuck off and die, Sheppard."

* * *

  
**Alliance, Nebraska**

"Who the hell builds a replica of Stonehenge out of cars?" Cam asked.

"You got me," Sheppard replied.

"I mean, I've seen a hell of a lot of fucked-up Goa'uld monuments, but this? This is just plain weird."

"I bet it was an Ancient."

"Really?"

"Trust me. In my experience, anything this screwy is the Ancients' fault until proven otherwise."

* * *

  
**Auburn, Kansas**

Open roads, endless fields, and a clear blue sky that seemed to stretch out to eternity: Kansas was the same as it had ever been when Cam visited. It wasn't home exactly, at least not for him. His family had moved a lot during his youth as his dad went from posting to posting. Auburn just happened to be where they stopped after his dad's crash. Still, it was where is family was now, and that was what was most important.

"Are you sure we shouldn't call ahead?" Sheppard asked as Cam turned them onto the country road his parents' place was on.

"Naw, people drop in unannounced all the time," Cam replied. "Trust me, half the fun is the surprise. Calling ahead would spoil it."

"If you say so," Sheppard said, sounding unconvinced. "Don't look at me when you end up with buckshot in your ass."

"This is Kansas, not Texas," Cam told him. "We don't shoot first and ask questions later. Well, except for Old Man Brown, but he always used rock salt."

"There's an actual Old Man Brown here," Sheppard said, amused.

"Well, he was about sixty, so he's probably dead, but yeah."

"How do you know he used rock salt?"

"My brother found out one night. I'd tell you more, but I'm sworn to secrecy."

They pulled into the driveway and Cam parked his car next to his mom's pickup. His dad's car was there, too, so it looked like they had caught them at home. Cam lead Sheppard around the back, and like he had expected the kitchen door was open to let the breeze through. He was about to call out when Sheppard laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you hear that?" Sheppard asked.

Cam listened carefully and after a moment he heard a low moaning noise that send a chill up his spine. A dozen different scenarios flashed through his head, from burglaries to heart attacks to a bad fall. He rushed into the living room and was stopped dead when he saw...

Jesus.

Fucking.

Christ.

He was stumbling back the way he had come an instant later, trying desperately to purge the horrific sight from his mind. It was no good; he doubted that even reoul serum or any other alien mind-wiping technology could help him. Certainly Sheppard's braying cackle wasn't doing him any favors.

After a few minutes he found himself sitting in the porch swing, staring off into the distance and wondering with a degree of dark, self-deprecating amusement what he could have possibly have done in a previous life to warrant this kind of karma. Maybe some kind of ascended being had it in for him.

"You know, most people consider it polite to call before they drop in on someone," his dad said in a dry voice. Cam looked up to see him standing at the door, wearing a frayed t-shirt and sweat pants.

"I wanted to surprised you," Cam said.

"You almost surprised us right into heart attacks."

"I just wasn't expecting you to be..." Cam considered his words and made a vague waving motion. "Busy."

"We're old, not dead," his dad said. "And my legs might not work, but the rest of me still does."

"Are we really going to have this conversation?" Cam asked plaintively.

"God, I hope not. There's a reason I had your uncle Henry take care of this conversation while I was overseas. Now come on in and say hello to your mother."

Cam's mom was in the kitchen and Sheppard was with her. They were standing to either side of the central island, which was already piled with bowls, trays, and ingredients, and talking. For some reason, that worried Cam a lot.

"Your mom is awesome," Sheppard said. "I can already tell this visit is going to make up for the rest of this stupid road trip of yours."

"Thank you, dear," Cam's mom said. "Would you get the mixer out of that cabinet there?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What are you doing?" Cam asked.

"Making cookies," his mom answered, coming over to give him a hug.

"And talking about your childhood," Sheppard added with a broad, shit-eating grin. "Apparently this isn't the first time you've barged in unannounced."

"What?" Cam said flatly.

"You were about five at the time, Cameron," his mom said. "It was when we were living down in Texas. This thunderstorm came rolling in and, well, next thing we knew there you were. Let me tell you, there's nothing as embarrassing as being interrupted by a little boy in Spider Man underwear."

Cam groaned. Sheppard's grin somehow got even bigger.

* * *

  
**Polk County, Alabama**

Cam slept fitfully. In his dreams he was tied to a chair in the gate room. Within the gate where the wormhole should have been, pictures of his childhood were being displayed. Meanwhile, his mother was talking about the highlights of his life with O'Neill, Vala, Ba'al, Thor, and numerous other people. He tried to get free, but he couldn't move; he tried to deny any of it had ever happened, or at least blame it all on his brother, but his mouth would not work.

_Dwooooop!_

Cam tried to bolt upright, but he was caught by his seatbelt. He looked over his shoulder and sure enough he saw the flashing lights of a county sheriff's patrol car.

"Oh, Christ," he said. "Seriously, Sheppard?"

Sheppard looked over at him, his eyes hidden behind aviator shades. "Whoops?"

"It figures," Cam muttered. He started to dig into the glove compartment while Sheppard pulled over.

"What figures?"

"That you'd managed to get in trouble with the law. Sam's told me all about your tendency to end up in jail."

"It's usually McKay's fault," Sheppard said, utterly unrepentant. "Look, just call the _Odyssey_ real fast and have them zap us out."

"Zap us out. You want me to have us beamed away so that you don't get a ticket?"

"Why not?"

"Because!"

"It's not like we don't do that sort of thing all the time!" Sheppard exclaimed.

"On other planets!"

"So?" Cam just stared at him, and finally Sheppard sighed. "Fine. Be a jerk. It's not like I'm saying we should zat him or blow up the jail or something."

"Zat her," Cam corrected, watching in the mirror as the officer approached.

"Huh?"

There was a tap at the open window. Sheppard turned and looked up at the deputy, who was a middle-aged woman with the name SWANSON on her uniform. Without missing a beat, he pulled off his shades and flashed her a brilliant smile.

"Afternoon, officer," he said. "What seems to be the problem?"

"How fast do you think you were going, sir?"

"About eighty, eighty-five."

"And how fast do you think the speed limit is?"

"I'm going to guess it's less than that, ma'am, and I'm really sorry if that's the case."

"You'd be right about that. License and registration, please."

Sheppard handed over his license and Cam passed along the registration. The cop walked back toward her cruiser. Cam supposed that however bad the ticket was, Sheppard wouldn't be missing it given his ill-gotten gains from earlier in the week. Maybe it was karma. That assumed that Sheppard couldn't weasel his way out of it. Cam knew from experience that Sheppard was entirely too skilled at placating authority figures for his own good.

Deputy Swanson returned a few minutes later with a vaguely bemused expression. "It looks like we have a little problem, sir," she said.

"We do?" Sheppard said. "What's the matter?"

She held out his license. "This expired three months ago."

"It did," Sheppard said, his smile faltering momentarily.

"Yes, sir, it did."

Sheppard looked over at Cam. "I thought Admin was supposed to take care of that?"

"Don't look at me," Cam replied, raising his hands. "I don't know how you people handle that kind of thing. It's not my department."

"It's probably some stupid IOA screw up," Sheppard mutter. He looked back at the deputy. "Ma'am, I am so incredibly sorry about that. This entire trip was a spur of the moment deal and I wasn't thinking about that sort of thing. I'm not even supposed to be in the country right now."

"Oh? How's that?"

"I've been deployed overseas the last couple of years. I'm only back here because of some administrative issues that needed me to come stateside." Sheppard pulled his military ID from his wallet and offered it to the deputy. "Then of course they didn't need me for a week and gave me some unexpected leave."

"It's true," Cam supplied. "I had to drag him away from his post before he annoyed everyone to death."

"I was not annoying anyone," Sheppard said with a glare. "But he's right, ma'am. They practically kicked me out of the building and Cam here somehow got the idea that a road trip would be a good idea. I had no idea that my license had expired. If I had, I wouldn't have been driving, and I swear that for the rest of the vacation I'll let him do it the entire time." Cam couldn't see Sheppard's face, but he knew that the puppy dog eyes were going full force

"Mmm." Swanson looked them over. "Pilots?"

"Yes, ma'am," they said in unison. No doubt Sheppard was now giving her his best, "I'm dashing, don't you want to kiss and/or fuck me?" look, completely unintentionally.

She scrutinized him for another minute, then said, "You want to hear something interesting, Colonel? I was an Air Force MP for ten years. I know better than to trust an innocent-looking pilot."

"Oh," Sheppard said, his shoulders drooping a little.

"Also, even if I didn't know that, all that charm of yours would be wasted on account of the girlfriend I've got waiting at home."

"Ah," Sheppard said.

"In his defense," Cam said, "he has no idea what he's doing, and wouldn't have a clue how to react if you were the sort to fall for the act."

"Really?" she said.

"Yep."

Swanson looked between them a couple of time before snorting and shaking her head. She handed over their papers and IDs. "You two slow the hell down and drive safe. Go on, git."

A few minutes later, while they were driving down the highway at a sedate fifty miles per hour, Sheppard asked indignantly, "What do you mean, I wouldn't know how to react?"

Cam chuckled. "You wouldn't."

"I would to."

"Uh huh. Sure."

"God, I hate you."

* * *

  
**New Orleans**

New Orleans was the greatest city on Earth.

No, wait, wait. New Orleans was the greatest city in the galaxy. It had every kind of booze imaginable. It had jazz. Best of all, it had bars with every kind of booze imaginable and live jazz right in the same place. Cam really wondered why he had never visited before. Although maybe that was a good thing, because he really couldn't think of someone better to come with than Sheppard. Everyone on his old team got really weird when drunk. Daniel would probably ramble on about the place's anthropological history, Teal'c would start making crazy Jaffa jokes and like as not decide it was time for another round of Kick Cam's Ass And Call It Training, Sam had a disturbing tendency to either pick up or start fights with guys playing pool, and Vala, well, _Vala_. Sheppard was a laid-back and goofy drunk, though, which fit Cam just fine. He also got clingy and handsy given enough time, but that by that point Cam was usually feeling way too goofy and handsy himself to care that it was a very bad idea to let Sheppard do whatever he wanted.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Sheppard said as they sat Bar #4. "You want to hear something weird?"

"Sure," Cam said, slurring just a little. "I love weird. Couldn't do my job if I didn't like weird. My crew is so damned weird that weird doesn't even cover it. I think Novak is having a love affair with a holographic Asgard. Now I ask you, how is that even possible? Physically, I mean, and not just 'cause one is made of light."

Sheppard's face scrunched up. "I didn't need to know that. Not what I was talking about, either." He flagged down a passing waitress. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Sure thing, sugar," she said with a smile.

"Say New Orleans."

"Naw'alins."

"See? See?" Sheppard said with a sloppy smile. "She sounds like you."

"She does not," Cam said.

"Does too."

"He sounds like a Carolina boy to me," the waitress said.

"He's from Kansas," Sheppard informed her.

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I think maybe you've had enough, sugar."

"I spent a lot of time with my Granma and Grandad growing up," Cam said. "But you should ignore him anyways, he doesn't know any better." He leaned forward and stage whispered, "He's a little crazy."

"'M'not crazy." Sheppard handed over a ten dollar bill and carefully said, "Thanks, ma'am."

"What was that about?" Cam asked once she was gone.

"Have you ever heard anyone like her, you know," Sheppard waved at the ceiling, "up there?"

"No," Cam replied after considering it.

"Exactly! Everyone sounds exactly the same. I visited Canada once when that thing with Jeannie and the psycho CEO happened. They sounded like aliens."

"You can't say that here."

"They'd all think Canadians are aliens if we asked them." Sheppard downed the last of his current beer. "I just think it's strange that all the aliens speak like Canadians."

"Teal'c doesn't," Cam pointed out. "Have you ever heard him speak? He intones everything." Cam drew himself up and intoned, "I believe that I may be mildly intoxicated, CameronMitchell." He shuddered at the memory, as that sentence had been followed by Cam getting a lap full of Jaffa vomit. Teal'c and tequilas did not mix well.

"Teyla never uses contractions. But I asked her about that once, and she claimed that _I_ never use contractions." Sheppard's expression suddenly grew contemplative. "Teyla has a kid now, you know. Torren John Emmagan."

Somewhere in Cam's head, alarm bells were going off. Sheppard was not supposed to be contemplative when he was drunk. "I've seen the pictures. He's a cute kid."

"He is. He's a great kid. Real smart." Now Sheppard was looking a bit morose. "I bet Rodney and Keller will have cute, smart kids. So will Ronon."

"Hold up a second," Cam said, gaping at him.

"And Lorne's got a little puppy-plant-thing, which is almost the same, when you think about it. I don't mean Parrish, either -- he's puppy-like, but he only likes plants, he's not plant-like. They've got a plant that roams around and acts like a dog."

"Are you serious?"

"I am," John said with a sigh. "I don't even know what happened. Everything was fine, or as fine as anything ever got, then bam, everyone's pairing off. And I mean everyone. It's like college, only worse."

"Christ on a crutch, Sheppard, I can not believe you," Cam exclaimed. "You are one of the strangest, most drama-prone guys I know --"

"Excuse me?"

"You attract men, women, and trouble like flies to honey, you have one of the most exciting jobs known to man. I was half expecting to hear that you had space cancer or were pining for a space vampire --"

Sheppard blanched. "That's disgusting."

"Stop interrupting me. Instead you're, you're having a generic midlife crisis like you're some corporate middle manager who's just realized he's got nothing but money."

"I don't see what's wrong with that," Sheppard said grumpily, sitting back and signaling for another beer.

"You're whining about everyone pairing up and having kids! It's so normal that it's completely inane!" Cam said. "Look, if that's a problem, you can consider yourself an unofficial member of SG-1. None of us are ever going to have the nice, neat nuclear family. T's the only one who managed to get close and that was when he was a hundred years old. Sam's ex turned out to be a psychopathic maniac, Daniel's wife got snaked and his sorta-kinda stepson turned into a glowing squid, and Vala's daughter was the Anti-Christ. Oh, and don't forget Jonas Quinn, he ended up in bed with a snake, too. I'm the most normal one, and if some pictures I've found recently are anything to go by, I might be my own grandfather. Trust me, you would fit right in.""

Sheppard was still pouting, but the ghost of a smile was fighting its way onto his lips. "That's the worst recruitment speech ever, Mitchell."

"And furthermore!" Cam said, working up a full head of steam as his rant continued. "Furthermore, as for the pairing off thing, you have no room to complain. I've been waiting for over a week for you to finally get around to jumping my bones, and I'm getting a little tired of it."

"Wait, what?" Sheppard said, blinking in confusion several times.

"It's our thing!" Cam said, throwing his hands up in disgust. "One of us gets a little upset or depressed, we fuck like bunnies, we feel better. We've been doing this for about eight years now."

"We have?"

Cam buried his face in his palms and muttered, "Yes. Yes, we have."

They'd started in Afghanistan, first after Fergie and then continuing after Mitch and Dex to the night that Cam transferred out. There had been a few nights after Cam arrived at the SGC and was still feeling shaky after months of therapy, lasting until the day _Daedalus_ left. Then came the six weeks that John had been adrift and lost. Apparently the pattern wasn't quite so obvious as Cam had thought.

"Oh." Sheppard scratched his hair. "So I take it that the hotel isn't actually out of rooms with two beds."

"God, you are dense."

"So I've been told."

Sheppard stood up, tossed some money on the table, and pulled Cam out of his chair. Cam narrowly avoided landing on his ass and stumbled along as Sheppard tugged him through the bar. A minute later they were out the door, around the corner, and in a dark alley.

"Is this what you've been hoping for?" Sheppard asked as he pushed Cam against a wall and dropped to his knees.

"Something like it," Cam said with a grin. "But if you get us arrested, I'm kicking your ass."

"If you're worried, try to be quiet."

Then Sheppard had his fly open and Cam was too focused on keeping himself from gasping and moaning loud enough to attract every cop within ten blocks to reply. It was a sloppy, uncoordinated blowjob, but hell, it was still a blowjob, and even while drunk Sheppard didn't lack in enthusiasm or skill. It didn't last long; Cam might be pushing forty, but it'd been a long time since he'd had any company beyond his own right hand.

Sheppard, off course, looked insufferably smug.

"So I'm thinking we should head back to the hotel," Cam said as he helped Sheppard up. "I don't know about you, but I've suddenly thought of something better to do than drink."

"Works for me."

* * *

  
**New Orleans (The Morning After)**

Cam woke up and found himself entangled with John. Unsurprisingly, the man took snuggling to entirely new levels, and so it was a bit like being in bed with a touch-starved, hairy octopus. Cam didn't mind in the least and under normal circumstances he would have preferred to go back to sleep. His bladder had other ideas, however, so he carefully extracted himself and stumbled over to the bathroom. John was awake by the time he returned.

"I was thinking, John said.

"Oh, crap," Cam said.

John threw a pillow at him and continued, "We should stay here for another day or two. It'd be nice to spend more time out of the car, and I figure there's plenty to do. For example, we could screw each other senseless. I figure that after eight years, we should see what it's like when we're not drunk or feeling sorry for ourselves."

"You might be on to something," Cam said with a slowly growing smile. "We wouldn't want to get in a rut or something."

"Exactly. So, breakfast or sex first?"

Cam's stomach rumbled. "Breakfast."

John's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

"No, you're right," Cam said after a moment's thought. "We stink. Shower first, then breakfast."

"You are a strange man, Cam."

"Did I say we had to shower separately?"

John rose off the bed and stretched like a cat. "I could go for that."

On the dresser, Cam's phone started ringing. They both looked at it suspiciously. While it was probably paranoid to think that the planet would be endangered the moment they were about to have sex, in Cam's experience there was good reason to expect the worst. John rolled his eyes, picked it up, and as he passed Cam on the way to the bathroom and their waiting shower he tossed it to him.

Cam hit the answer button and said, "Mitchell."

"Hey, Cam," Sam said. "How's the vacation going?"

"It's going great," Cam said, biting back a groan, "but this really isn't the best time."

"You weren't asleep, were you?"

"We just got up and were going to get some breakfast."

"Ah. I see," Sam said. There was a hint of laughter in her voice. "Is John having a good time?"

Cam glanced at the bathroom door. "You could say that."

"I thought you might find some way to cheer him up."

"Is there a reason you called?"

"I just wanted to let you know that you've got about a week or so before you need to be back."

"I can probably keep John distracted that long. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go fuck him in the shower."

Cam hung up while she was still sputtering and tossed the phone onto the bed. Another week suddenly didn't seem nearly long enough for his taste. He and John would just have to make the most of it, and really, neither one of them were made for endless vacations.

Besides, there was no reason they couldn't keep it up after their leave was officially over.


End file.
